As I was leaving the gas station today, one of my favorite shy little nebbishy guys came in. I went around to his truck and kibitzed with him about the big honking industrial-strength riding mower on his trailer – he mows lawns for part of his income. I joked about climbing in the trailer and getting a ride. After he pumped his gas and got ready to leave the station, he said, “Climb on in” and I was caught unready when I realized he meant it. I kind of lamely said, “Oh, I’m just going down the street”, but I realized even as I said it that I didn’t know where in me this declining of his offer was coming from.
As I walked down the street to the bus stop, I realized that I actually had no good reason for turning down his friendly offer. He obviously enjoys all our little interactions, so I think he would have been tickled to give me a ride. And I’m limping a little today from a bruised foot, so a ride really could have been helpful to me.
So why did I turn it down? Some of it felt like my old psychologist “professional boundaries” – like it would have been somehow crossing some line that would be improper to cross. But it’s been 20 years since I did that kind of work, and my intervening management consulting work had way looser boundaries. There was every good reason to be more of a friend with these clients.
But this is a gas station, for god’s sake. Why the hell am I talking about professional boundaries?! Partly for the same reason that drove also some of my psychologist boundaries – to keep myself safe. I have since had a therapist who, after she has known a client (like me) for a good long while, has – in certain instances, like with me – developed very good friendships with them. Part of me still kind of wonders how she does it, but she does - and it works, for her and for me and for at least one other now mutual friend.
So what am I trying to keep safe? Mostly the same stuff that drives excessive caution and control wherever these pop up in my life. I feel like I have stuff to hide, that I need to keep my persona (the self I present to the world) pretty solid, unshaken by too much spontaneity. Standing behind the gas station window, I have a role that makes it safe to be relatively spontaneous. Out on the same side of the window as my customer, I don’t quite know how to behave. I don’t trust that just “real” and “human” will be enough.
I don’t want to make too big a deal of this little interaction. No real harm was done. David may have felt just a little rebuffed and disappointed, but I doubt very much so – and there will be lots more opportunities to express that I like and value him. And, as I waited at the bus stop, another of my favorite customers came along and I got to have a nice little visit with him – which totally indicated to me that there was no mistake, that everything was just as it was meant to be.
But I like the little bit of reflecting I have done here about “cautious boundaries”. I think that next time I might like to observe my inclination toward caution and control, and perhaps have a little more freedom to act from a more truly conscious, more flexible place.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
FRIENDLINESS EXTENDED
I have written elsewhere about customers who, even though they may be regulars, never leave an opening (as I experience it) to go beyond a pretty purely business interaction. I have written also about those times when, for a variety of reasons, I don’t reach for anything more than a “matter-of-fact”, kind of minimal encounter.
There is a whole separate category of encounter, with people who never come to the window. I more and more find myself extending friendliness – even if only a “Hey” or “Have a nice day” - to these folks. They sometimes initiate a verbal exchange (they say “Hey” or something). Or they meet my eyes in a way that opens a space for engagement. Or if they don’t really make eye contact, it is still relatively easy to reach out to people who are looking in my general direction. But even people to whom I extend as their back is to me, as they are getting back in their car, generally seem to appreciate it.
I’ve always been a big extrovert. When my son, who is an introvert, was a teenager, he had big problems with my tendency to greet strangers out on the street – even in Chicago, where there is lots less of this random greeting than in his Louisville, KY – and way lots less than in my current Asheville (where we say “Hey”, not “Hi”).
His protests were mostly variations on “Why, why did you have to talk to that person?” One time, prepared for his challenge, I playfully said, “He started it – he looked at me first.” But the response that most drove him around the bend went:
“Because he’s my brother.”
“What?!!”
“Yeah, all other people are my brothers and sisters.”
A disbelieving look, like I had finally, totally lost it.
But some of these gas station greetings have been a stretch even for this extrovert, especially when they are not true encounters. If we are not passing by each other, if our eyes do not even come close to making contact, what is the basis of extending friendliness in their direction?
One explanation I give myself is that they are our guests at our store and I am just being a good host. We don’t refer to our customers as “guests” in this gas station, as we did at a restaurant where I used to work as a server, but the concept does work for me in this environment.
But the rationale that works even better for me is that they are fellow human beings - that same brother/sister riff. I really do buy this.
A few years ago, I went to two silent meditation retreats in the same summer. Each of these retreats broke up the sitting meditation with walking meditation, in beautiful natural surroundings.
At the first retreat, we were encouraged, when we encountered each other on the walking paths, to make deep eye contact, fold our hands and make a slow, deep bow to each other, then more sweet eye contact before we disengaged and moved on. We weren’t told to think the word “Namaste” – “I greet the divine being in you” – but it was like that.
At the second retreat, we were instructed to keep our focus totally inward and to completely tune out our fellow meditators whom we passed by. That approach, especially after the previous retreat, really didn’t work for me. So, while on the outside I was following the protocol, inside I greeted each person I passed: “Hi, brother”, etc.
So, it’s something like this when I go out of my way to greet or wish a nice day to our customers who have not come to the window. I really, mostly do believe that these are both brothers/sisters and essentially divine beings crossing my path – and it feels right to greet them.
And the proof is in the pudding. Pudding proof #1 is that this “extended friendliness” just feels more and more natural to me every day. Second, it seems to work with my customers. Even those who seem taken just a little off balance by an unexpected greeting, mostly smile and seem pleased to be acknowledged. (I obviously can’t know exactly what makes them smile. They could actually be chuckling over this goofy cashier and thinking, “Why, why did he have to talk to me?” But I don’t think so.)
I doubt that anyone would have described me as an unfriendly person, really ever in my life. (I do definitely have my moments, both at and away from the gas station.) But my work at the gas station is teaching me how to extend friendliness, comfortably, in mini not-real-encounters that were out of my comfort zone even a few months ago.
Working at the gas station is making me a friendlier person.
There is a whole separate category of encounter, with people who never come to the window. I more and more find myself extending friendliness – even if only a “Hey” or “Have a nice day” - to these folks. They sometimes initiate a verbal exchange (they say “Hey” or something). Or they meet my eyes in a way that opens a space for engagement. Or if they don’t really make eye contact, it is still relatively easy to reach out to people who are looking in my general direction. But even people to whom I extend as their back is to me, as they are getting back in their car, generally seem to appreciate it.
I’ve always been a big extrovert. When my son, who is an introvert, was a teenager, he had big problems with my tendency to greet strangers out on the street – even in Chicago, where there is lots less of this random greeting than in his Louisville, KY – and way lots less than in my current Asheville (where we say “Hey”, not “Hi”).
His protests were mostly variations on “Why, why did you have to talk to that person?” One time, prepared for his challenge, I playfully said, “He started it – he looked at me first.” But the response that most drove him around the bend went:
“Because he’s my brother.”
“What?!!”
“Yeah, all other people are my brothers and sisters.”
A disbelieving look, like I had finally, totally lost it.
But some of these gas station greetings have been a stretch even for this extrovert, especially when they are not true encounters. If we are not passing by each other, if our eyes do not even come close to making contact, what is the basis of extending friendliness in their direction?
One explanation I give myself is that they are our guests at our store and I am just being a good host. We don’t refer to our customers as “guests” in this gas station, as we did at a restaurant where I used to work as a server, but the concept does work for me in this environment.
But the rationale that works even better for me is that they are fellow human beings - that same brother/sister riff. I really do buy this.
A few years ago, I went to two silent meditation retreats in the same summer. Each of these retreats broke up the sitting meditation with walking meditation, in beautiful natural surroundings.
At the first retreat, we were encouraged, when we encountered each other on the walking paths, to make deep eye contact, fold our hands and make a slow, deep bow to each other, then more sweet eye contact before we disengaged and moved on. We weren’t told to think the word “Namaste” – “I greet the divine being in you” – but it was like that.
At the second retreat, we were instructed to keep our focus totally inward and to completely tune out our fellow meditators whom we passed by. That approach, especially after the previous retreat, really didn’t work for me. So, while on the outside I was following the protocol, inside I greeted each person I passed: “Hi, brother”, etc.
So, it’s something like this when I go out of my way to greet or wish a nice day to our customers who have not come to the window. I really, mostly do believe that these are both brothers/sisters and essentially divine beings crossing my path – and it feels right to greet them.
And the proof is in the pudding. Pudding proof #1 is that this “extended friendliness” just feels more and more natural to me every day. Second, it seems to work with my customers. Even those who seem taken just a little off balance by an unexpected greeting, mostly smile and seem pleased to be acknowledged. (I obviously can’t know exactly what makes them smile. They could actually be chuckling over this goofy cashier and thinking, “Why, why did he have to talk to me?” But I don’t think so.)
I doubt that anyone would have described me as an unfriendly person, really ever in my life. (I do definitely have my moments, both at and away from the gas station.) But my work at the gas station is teaching me how to extend friendliness, comfortably, in mini not-real-encounters that were out of my comfort zone even a few months ago.
Working at the gas station is making me a friendlier person.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
LATINO CUSTOMERS
These days, when there is so much anti-Latino backlash, I try to give special props to my Latino customers. My Spanish is feeling just too rusty to use (I do want to brush up on it). But, for now, I just put a lot of juice into greeting them – to really, really welcome them. I want them to go away feeling recognized, valued – like, “Hey, he really likes Latino people.”
Saturday, September 30, 2006
“I’M DOING ‘JUST RIGHT’”
A stock-in-trade little conversation exchange at the gas station window is to ask people how they are or “are doing”. It was one of these little openers that stimulated the “Keeping It Human” article on my “Authentic Customer Service” web site. (www.home.earthlink.net/~authenticcustomerservice/)
But when I am not feeling very good myself, especially if I am depressed, I shy away from using this question, because people are more likely then to return the question – and I don’t know what to say. It feels lousy to lie: “I’m fine”, “I’m good”, etc – these just aren’t true, and dishonesty does not really follow the path of “Authentic Customer Service”. But not using this icebreaker I seem to lose too much, in terms of really making contact with my customers.
And it also doesn’t feel right to complain, partly because most customers aren’t really ready for this kind of honesty. Sometimes, though, if they themselves open with some form of “lousy” – or ask me first, then reply that way – then it sometimes feels right to join them. “Hey, that really the honest answer for me”, etc.
But complaining doesn’t work for me on another level. I really do believe (though obviously not completely) that all is well – that there is no chaos, that there is a purpose for everything. From this perspective, there is nothing wrong with anything I may be feeling – it is all in divine order.
I also believe this business of nothing being wrong in a very specific way about my down moods. They drive me to introverting and particularly to writing. I not only identify myself as a writer, but at this moment in time I believe that I am meant to be really moving ahead on two writing projects. But there is so much inertia (including depression) and resistance (“Who are you to think you have so much to say?”, etc.) around this writing that I kind of think I need to do whatever I can to push ahead.
A lot of me does believe that my muse is calling me and that it is worth it to be driven, to be out of balance for a while in order to move these projects ahead – especially to get my “Radical Integrity” book finished and at least self-published, preferably within the next few months. (It really is mostly finished and needs very little more writing – more just editing and organizing. “Just”!)
Driven and out of balance worked for me with my doctoral dissertation – I really became a kind of nutcase for several months, pretty much giving up on any wider life while I pushed for completion. I had so much resistance to working on that mega-project that I still believe that I would not have finished it in any other way. So one particular meaning of “I’m doing just right” is that the depression I’m feeling may be just right, if it drives me to my desk and to writing.
So I’m experimenting with answering the various forms of the “How are you?” question with “Just right”. I’m not remembering to do it all the time, but I really am liking it when I do use it. It is sufficiently vague to include all kinds of internal states. Some people immediately get that and are drawn to it – one friend (who struggles a lot with depression herself) asked my permission to start using it (which I immediately gave - as if I had some kind of copyright on it).
If people misunderstand this phrase to mean “perfect” – which to me could mean much the same thing as “Just right”, but to them may mean beyond wonderful – I sometimes just let it stand, and sometimes clarify with something like, “That can mean a lot of things”. I think that, over time, I’m likely to do less of this clarifying and more of just letting it stand.
But when I am not feeling very good myself, especially if I am depressed, I shy away from using this question, because people are more likely then to return the question – and I don’t know what to say. It feels lousy to lie: “I’m fine”, “I’m good”, etc – these just aren’t true, and dishonesty does not really follow the path of “Authentic Customer Service”. But not using this icebreaker I seem to lose too much, in terms of really making contact with my customers.
And it also doesn’t feel right to complain, partly because most customers aren’t really ready for this kind of honesty. Sometimes, though, if they themselves open with some form of “lousy” – or ask me first, then reply that way – then it sometimes feels right to join them. “Hey, that really the honest answer for me”, etc.
But complaining doesn’t work for me on another level. I really do believe (though obviously not completely) that all is well – that there is no chaos, that there is a purpose for everything. From this perspective, there is nothing wrong with anything I may be feeling – it is all in divine order.
I also believe this business of nothing being wrong in a very specific way about my down moods. They drive me to introverting and particularly to writing. I not only identify myself as a writer, but at this moment in time I believe that I am meant to be really moving ahead on two writing projects. But there is so much inertia (including depression) and resistance (“Who are you to think you have so much to say?”, etc.) around this writing that I kind of think I need to do whatever I can to push ahead.
A lot of me does believe that my muse is calling me and that it is worth it to be driven, to be out of balance for a while in order to move these projects ahead – especially to get my “Radical Integrity” book finished and at least self-published, preferably within the next few months. (It really is mostly finished and needs very little more writing – more just editing and organizing. “Just”!)
Driven and out of balance worked for me with my doctoral dissertation – I really became a kind of nutcase for several months, pretty much giving up on any wider life while I pushed for completion. I had so much resistance to working on that mega-project that I still believe that I would not have finished it in any other way. So one particular meaning of “I’m doing just right” is that the depression I’m feeling may be just right, if it drives me to my desk and to writing.
So I’m experimenting with answering the various forms of the “How are you?” question with “Just right”. I’m not remembering to do it all the time, but I really am liking it when I do use it. It is sufficiently vague to include all kinds of internal states. Some people immediately get that and are drawn to it – one friend (who struggles a lot with depression herself) asked my permission to start using it (which I immediately gave - as if I had some kind of copyright on it).
If people misunderstand this phrase to mean “perfect” – which to me could mean much the same thing as “Just right”, but to them may mean beyond wonderful – I sometimes just let it stand, and sometimes clarify with something like, “That can mean a lot of things”. I think that, over time, I’m likely to do less of this clarifying and more of just letting it stand.
Friday, September 29, 2006
JENNIFER AND STEVEN
Two of my current heroes among our regular customers are Jennifer and Steven.
Jennifer is a pretty 40ish woman who walks with a terrible limp as she comes to the window for her cigarettes. (“I really want to quit, but I’m not ready yet.” She always asks me how I’m doing with my current quit – seven weeks now.) It looks like the whole right side of her body is very, very impaired. I don’t think I asked, but she volunteered one day that she was one of the last people to get polio. (“That sucks”, was the most creative thing I could think of to say.)
She has told me that she is officially disabled, that she goes to the Y for water aerobics (“the only way I can exercise”) and that she has lived in Florida and Alaska. (I haven’t asked her what took her to these places, but did say that she is quite the adventurer. I didn’t say, “given your condition”, but did think this.) The thing that stands out most about her is how cheerful she is – she really kind of sparkles. How has she arrived at a place of such apparent positive energy, dealing with all she has had to deal with? I really would like to know.
I find Jennifer very attractive – not “for a disabled person”, but period. The other day, she made reference to about a third old boyfriend. Me: “I’m starting to think you have left this trail of broken hearts across the country.” Jennifer: “Sort of…”
Steven is a handsome 25ish guy who drives a PT Cruiser. Most of the time, he has his beautiful golden retriever with him, wearing aviator goggles. This is way too cute. Perhaps the first time I talked to Steven, I asked him if the dog likes the goggles. “He loves them – they keep the dirt and bugs out of his eyes when he sticks his head out the window.” I waited on Steven a few times before I noticed the multi-colored, really kind of pretty cast on his right leg. Even then, he walked so normally that I would forget about the cast and be surprised again when I noticed it. I never got around to asking about it. A couple of months ago, the evening cashier Paul said that Steven had told him he was going to have the leg amputated. We speculated about maybe diabetes, but I thought that for that condition they start with a minimal amputation – a toe or foot or something. The only other thing Steven told Paul was that he was “ready to have the pain be over”.
I was the first one to see Steven after his amputation – I think about two weeks after. He was wearing shorts, with his artificial leg right out there to be seen. He said he was getting a lot of physical therapy to learn how to use it. The next time I saw him, maybe a week after, when asked how he was doing, he said that he was having a lot of pain. I could see that he was almost woozy with it. I asked if they were giving him “good drugs for it?” He said not good enough, that the pain was right up to the limit of what he could take.
I have been making a point of leaving the booth and going to get his money from him. He wants to pump the gas. I always ask – and am genuinely interested – in how he is doing. One day he had the foot of his prosthetic missing – he said it didn’t move enough and it was easier to use the accelerator with it off. Twice he has said that he is back to work and that this is good distraction. He is a social worker with kids with developmental disabilities. I think he appreciates my help, but even more my attention. I think he gets it that I like him – that I am approaching him with friendliness more than sympathy. We use each other’s names. I do both like him and admire him a lot.
Each of us who work at the gas station really do admire Steven and go out of our way to connect with him. A few weeks ago he said that he had really messed up his prosthesis by trying to lift one of his clients. His doctor mandated three weeks off of work. Before we knew it, he had flown to Albuquerque to be in a movie with Billy Bob Thornton, playing a Vietnam Vet. When he came back, he said it had been quite the experience. “We’ll see if any of that makes it into the final cut.”
I was thinking the other day that maybe Jennifer and Steven ought to meet each other. This may or may not make sense, but I do have them linked in my head. They are my two big heroes at the gas station.
Jennifer is a pretty 40ish woman who walks with a terrible limp as she comes to the window for her cigarettes. (“I really want to quit, but I’m not ready yet.” She always asks me how I’m doing with my current quit – seven weeks now.) It looks like the whole right side of her body is very, very impaired. I don’t think I asked, but she volunteered one day that she was one of the last people to get polio. (“That sucks”, was the most creative thing I could think of to say.)
She has told me that she is officially disabled, that she goes to the Y for water aerobics (“the only way I can exercise”) and that she has lived in Florida and Alaska. (I haven’t asked her what took her to these places, but did say that she is quite the adventurer. I didn’t say, “given your condition”, but did think this.) The thing that stands out most about her is how cheerful she is – she really kind of sparkles. How has she arrived at a place of such apparent positive energy, dealing with all she has had to deal with? I really would like to know.
I find Jennifer very attractive – not “for a disabled person”, but period. The other day, she made reference to about a third old boyfriend. Me: “I’m starting to think you have left this trail of broken hearts across the country.” Jennifer: “Sort of…”
Steven is a handsome 25ish guy who drives a PT Cruiser. Most of the time, he has his beautiful golden retriever with him, wearing aviator goggles. This is way too cute. Perhaps the first time I talked to Steven, I asked him if the dog likes the goggles. “He loves them – they keep the dirt and bugs out of his eyes when he sticks his head out the window.” I waited on Steven a few times before I noticed the multi-colored, really kind of pretty cast on his right leg. Even then, he walked so normally that I would forget about the cast and be surprised again when I noticed it. I never got around to asking about it. A couple of months ago, the evening cashier Paul said that Steven had told him he was going to have the leg amputated. We speculated about maybe diabetes, but I thought that for that condition they start with a minimal amputation – a toe or foot or something. The only other thing Steven told Paul was that he was “ready to have the pain be over”.
I was the first one to see Steven after his amputation – I think about two weeks after. He was wearing shorts, with his artificial leg right out there to be seen. He said he was getting a lot of physical therapy to learn how to use it. The next time I saw him, maybe a week after, when asked how he was doing, he said that he was having a lot of pain. I could see that he was almost woozy with it. I asked if they were giving him “good drugs for it?” He said not good enough, that the pain was right up to the limit of what he could take.
I have been making a point of leaving the booth and going to get his money from him. He wants to pump the gas. I always ask – and am genuinely interested – in how he is doing. One day he had the foot of his prosthetic missing – he said it didn’t move enough and it was easier to use the accelerator with it off. Twice he has said that he is back to work and that this is good distraction. He is a social worker with kids with developmental disabilities. I think he appreciates my help, but even more my attention. I think he gets it that I like him – that I am approaching him with friendliness more than sympathy. We use each other’s names. I do both like him and admire him a lot.
Each of us who work at the gas station really do admire Steven and go out of our way to connect with him. A few weeks ago he said that he had really messed up his prosthesis by trying to lift one of his clients. His doctor mandated three weeks off of work. Before we knew it, he had flown to Albuquerque to be in a movie with Billy Bob Thornton, playing a Vietnam Vet. When he came back, he said it had been quite the experience. “We’ll see if any of that makes it into the final cut.”
I was thinking the other day that maybe Jennifer and Steven ought to meet each other. This may or may not make sense, but I do have them linked in my head. They are my two big heroes at the gas station.
LOVE AND CONTRACTION AT THE GAS STATION
How do I express –or even feel – love, when I am so painfully contracted that it is difficult or impossible for me to extend? Keeping my blessing list helps. Saying nice things to people helps. Thanking people and wishing them a nice day helps. When people are expressing themselves, with all these funny little mannerisms, I can flow with them – act like they were clever or at least build off their lead. Like in improv, the “yes…and”, so they don’t look or feel awkward. Pay attention to them. If I can’t get all the way to seeing the divine being in them (I can try), then I can practice trying to like them.
I can tell that people feel safe with me, because they goof around progressively more with me – even in silly little ways.
I can tell that people feel safe with me, because they goof around progressively more with me – even in silly little ways.
SURVIVORS
All these people came to my window over three consecutive shifts. These were just the ones I recorded – there were others:
· This 75ish lady with the crook in her neck that had her looking at the ground – osteoporosis? How can she see the road to drive?
· A guy with a pretty hard crook in his back
· This guy with a real Parkinson’s shake – was he driving?
· This very old (80?), very wobbly woman, who said that she didn’t know how to pump the gas, then was very sweet about me helping her – and did seem to learn. Was she ok still driving? Her mental faculties seemed still ok – in a body that’s not very good at holding them any more. That must be awfully tough to handle – but she really came across as very sweet.
· This little 50ish polio (?) guy (leg braces, very impaired walk, sunglasses, buzz cut, hot little red Audi convertible) – so full of jokes, even if half of them make no sense to me. He seems like an indomitable spirit.
· This old farmer with barely any skin on his bones – cancer?
· This attractive, blonde, 45ish woman, walking with a limp. Is her right leg shorter than the left?
· This really cute 20ish girl with the cut scars on her arms
· This really pretty 25ish woman, fabulous eyes, only slightly heavy – and these really fucked-up flabby, wrinkled legs. What’s that about? And how does she handle it, including finding the courage to wear shorts?
· This guy with a cleft palate, camouflaged by his mustache.
· This 70ish guy with the cane and such blistered lips
· This 70ish guy with such a pronounced limp, then gets into a wheelchair
· How about this65ish lady with her leg braces, gratefully receiving help with pumping. I don’t know what her condition is, but she says she’s concerned that she is going to lose her arm strength, too.
· This young (25ish) guy, already burdened with being so rigid and cranky
· This 50ish guy with such a terribly stiff walk. I wondered what that was about, until I saw these awful burn scars on his arms and neck – they must extend over lots more of his body.
· This lady with such terrible eczema on her face
· This 70ish guy with the cleft palate – two in one day. He has had this all his life. I hope they are doing better work with these today.This 20ish guy with a stump of a hand
· This 75ish lady with the crook in her neck that had her looking at the ground – osteoporosis? How can she see the road to drive?
· A guy with a pretty hard crook in his back
· This guy with a real Parkinson’s shake – was he driving?
· This very old (80?), very wobbly woman, who said that she didn’t know how to pump the gas, then was very sweet about me helping her – and did seem to learn. Was she ok still driving? Her mental faculties seemed still ok – in a body that’s not very good at holding them any more. That must be awfully tough to handle – but she really came across as very sweet.
· This little 50ish polio (?) guy (leg braces, very impaired walk, sunglasses, buzz cut, hot little red Audi convertible) – so full of jokes, even if half of them make no sense to me. He seems like an indomitable spirit.
· This old farmer with barely any skin on his bones – cancer?
· This attractive, blonde, 45ish woman, walking with a limp. Is her right leg shorter than the left?
· This really cute 20ish girl with the cut scars on her arms
· This really pretty 25ish woman, fabulous eyes, only slightly heavy – and these really fucked-up flabby, wrinkled legs. What’s that about? And how does she handle it, including finding the courage to wear shorts?
· This guy with a cleft palate, camouflaged by his mustache.
· This 70ish guy with the cane and such blistered lips
· This 70ish guy with such a pronounced limp, then gets into a wheelchair
· How about this65ish lady with her leg braces, gratefully receiving help with pumping. I don’t know what her condition is, but she says she’s concerned that she is going to lose her arm strength, too.
· This young (25ish) guy, already burdened with being so rigid and cranky
· This 50ish guy with such a terribly stiff walk. I wondered what that was about, until I saw these awful burn scars on his arms and neck – they must extend over lots more of his body.
· This lady with such terrible eczema on her face
· This 70ish guy with the cleft palate – two in one day. He has had this all his life. I hope they are doing better work with these today.This 20ish guy with a stump of a hand
INFINITE BEINGS
What if I could see each person before me at the gas station window as a divine being? It feels to me now that this would be a process of waking up. It seems totally possible –to at least move in this direction, not necessarily to succeed all the time. It will require that I move beyond all my knee-jerk, instinctive responses to each person’s individual differences: smart/dumb, good-looking/plain, friendly/cool, cool/clunky, etc.
Moments later: this is so difficult! It feels impossible. I am so caught in appearances that I seem to immediately get lost, to go to sleep. A couple of tips for me, though: giving them a big, generous smile seems to loosen the judgmental mechanism in me. Likewise being really friendly towards them. If they present open and warm – or if I can help them get there – it is easier to set in motion the chemistry that builds on itself and allows a little bit of infinity to flow in. I get tripped up by the limitations in how people hold themselves, their defenses, etc.
This exercise could be more than enough to keep me busy in this job for a long time. I bet it also can cut the legs out from under any hurry to get out of this job. What goes on in each transaction that trips me up? How can I get around it, meet it, etc.? I bet a lot of what gets in the way is how I hold myself. We all carry so many layers and layers of conditioning and self-protection that mask our spiritual essence. Maybe, by breathing, slowing down, not being in a hurry, feeling honored to have another divine being in front of me….
This is obviously going to take a lot of progress. I want to remember to practice and to pay attention to what in them, in me, in the interaction keeps me from doing this. It’s definitely easier with kids. Then, after kids, young women? Or older people? I think they really come next. Or people who make good contact with me – who arrive at the window open. It really helps when I manage to charm them, when I see any change in their stance from stiff (dead) to animated (alive – what is the meaning of that word?)
Last night a 30ish hippy guy just absolutely stopped in his tracks when he realized I was genuinely showing up for him. He obviously had not expected this. Did this make it easier for me to see the divine being in him? Not consciously at the time, but maybe a little movement in that direction.
How do I do this with people who just drop their money and go – no engagement, no eye contact? Maybe that might almost be easier, without all the limitations and defenses in front of you.
Anything that treats people inclusively helps. Teasing, joking, playing seem to work wonders – really open up a space for a taste of infinity to slip in. Why is that? It requires a little drop in my defenses and theirs, a little bit (or more) of collaboration, for us to play together. A successful tease or joke requires that we work together, especially if we really banter together – at least one round of back and forth. It is, energetically, like a good tennis rally.
· This short, big-necked guy – always friendly – gave me two distinct winks today. So cute, he must be feeling really comfy with me, dropping his guard – it’s a kind of playing.
· Just putting a little lilt in my voice causes things to happen.
· This lady laughing over not remembering the name of her car style – very cute.
· This other lady broke into the sweetest, warmest, delicious smile, over my smile – it had to be because of that.
- And then this 70ish guy. His face is programmed, I think, to just not open as wide. But he got a gleam in his eye and, I think, a little extra playfulness in the tip of his hand to his head – a little salute.
Moments later: this is so difficult! It feels impossible. I am so caught in appearances that I seem to immediately get lost, to go to sleep. A couple of tips for me, though: giving them a big, generous smile seems to loosen the judgmental mechanism in me. Likewise being really friendly towards them. If they present open and warm – or if I can help them get there – it is easier to set in motion the chemistry that builds on itself and allows a little bit of infinity to flow in. I get tripped up by the limitations in how people hold themselves, their defenses, etc.
This exercise could be more than enough to keep me busy in this job for a long time. I bet it also can cut the legs out from under any hurry to get out of this job. What goes on in each transaction that trips me up? How can I get around it, meet it, etc.? I bet a lot of what gets in the way is how I hold myself. We all carry so many layers and layers of conditioning and self-protection that mask our spiritual essence. Maybe, by breathing, slowing down, not being in a hurry, feeling honored to have another divine being in front of me….
This is obviously going to take a lot of progress. I want to remember to practice and to pay attention to what in them, in me, in the interaction keeps me from doing this. It’s definitely easier with kids. Then, after kids, young women? Or older people? I think they really come next. Or people who make good contact with me – who arrive at the window open. It really helps when I manage to charm them, when I see any change in their stance from stiff (dead) to animated (alive – what is the meaning of that word?)
Last night a 30ish hippy guy just absolutely stopped in his tracks when he realized I was genuinely showing up for him. He obviously had not expected this. Did this make it easier for me to see the divine being in him? Not consciously at the time, but maybe a little movement in that direction.
How do I do this with people who just drop their money and go – no engagement, no eye contact? Maybe that might almost be easier, without all the limitations and defenses in front of you.
Anything that treats people inclusively helps. Teasing, joking, playing seem to work wonders – really open up a space for a taste of infinity to slip in. Why is that? It requires a little drop in my defenses and theirs, a little bit (or more) of collaboration, for us to play together. A successful tease or joke requires that we work together, especially if we really banter together – at least one round of back and forth. It is, energetically, like a good tennis rally.
· This short, big-necked guy – always friendly – gave me two distinct winks today. So cute, he must be feeling really comfy with me, dropping his guard – it’s a kind of playing.
· Just putting a little lilt in my voice causes things to happen.
· This lady laughing over not remembering the name of her car style – very cute.
· This other lady broke into the sweetest, warmest, delicious smile, over my smile – it had to be because of that.
- And then this 70ish guy. His face is programmed, I think, to just not open as wide. But he got a gleam in his eye and, I think, a little extra playfulness in the tip of his hand to his head – a little salute.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
IT’S SO EASY
This morning, in the window at the gas station, waiting on this black working class guy about my own age, I swear I did nothing special beyond just putting a little extra inflection in my voice as I parroted back his pump number and the amount of money he had paid. But this guy’s expression got really bright as he looked me straight in the eye and said, with lots of emphasis, “You’re so nice!” I gave him a really genuine “Thank you”, partly because I was genuinely floored by the compliment.
Just a little extra lilt in my voice – that’s all it took. This was a new guy, but I know I have a fan club around there – many of them have told me how much they appreciate the attention I give them. Some of these, again, have floored me, because I don’t remember being especially nice to them – in some cases, I just plain don’t remember them!
It’s so easy, so easy to make people feel special. I think it also is an unfortunate reflection of how little people expect from customer service folks – it like shocks them when someone is genuinely nice to them.
Here’s where it becomes more complicated. I embrace this work because I’m writing, thinking, conversing – I’m just all over “front line customer service”. It’s all grist for the mill for me. I have lots of threads that make this job worthwhile to me, even at shit pay and in a system where managers don’t know how to manage – and especially don’t know how to give “attaboys” for good work.
So, most front line customer service folks are not writing stuff about the work. Most of them are in it because it was the job that they got. Most of them (except maybe in this town) don’t think of themselves as living the life of the Asheville artist, with mindless day jobs that support – or at least don’t suck too much energy away from – their art. Most of them don’t have an artistic form of expression to nurture their soul. (Again, Asheville is the exception that proves the rule.) And then they work in these systems where they chronically do not feel respected or appreciated for their contributions – including being paid a disrespectfully low wage.
So, here’s the paradox: easy to give customers that extra little juice that makes their day, but hard to motivate customer service folks to do this. Hard to help them find their way into “Authentic Customer Service (ACS)”, that path that celebrates the server as much as the customer.
But not really all that hard if you know how. I’m convinced that, in many workplaces, just having people take five minutes after each shift to fill out my “Post-Shift Debrief” (www.home.earthlink.net/~authenticcustomerservice/id23.html), could in itself leverage a shift in this area. I also think it wouldn’t be all that hard to teach supervisors to move in this ACS direction – though you probably would have to get through their resistance that comes from them also being managed so poorly. It would be really good to be able to get my hands on their bosses, too.
Just a little extra lilt in my voice – that’s all it took. This was a new guy, but I know I have a fan club around there – many of them have told me how much they appreciate the attention I give them. Some of these, again, have floored me, because I don’t remember being especially nice to them – in some cases, I just plain don’t remember them!
It’s so easy, so easy to make people feel special. I think it also is an unfortunate reflection of how little people expect from customer service folks – it like shocks them when someone is genuinely nice to them.
Here’s where it becomes more complicated. I embrace this work because I’m writing, thinking, conversing – I’m just all over “front line customer service”. It’s all grist for the mill for me. I have lots of threads that make this job worthwhile to me, even at shit pay and in a system where managers don’t know how to manage – and especially don’t know how to give “attaboys” for good work.
So, most front line customer service folks are not writing stuff about the work. Most of them are in it because it was the job that they got. Most of them (except maybe in this town) don’t think of themselves as living the life of the Asheville artist, with mindless day jobs that support – or at least don’t suck too much energy away from – their art. Most of them don’t have an artistic form of expression to nurture their soul. (Again, Asheville is the exception that proves the rule.) And then they work in these systems where they chronically do not feel respected or appreciated for their contributions – including being paid a disrespectfully low wage.
So, here’s the paradox: easy to give customers that extra little juice that makes their day, but hard to motivate customer service folks to do this. Hard to help them find their way into “Authentic Customer Service (ACS)”, that path that celebrates the server as much as the customer.
But not really all that hard if you know how. I’m convinced that, in many workplaces, just having people take five minutes after each shift to fill out my “Post-Shift Debrief” (www.home.earthlink.net/~authenticcustomerservice/id23.html), could in itself leverage a shift in this area. I also think it wouldn’t be all that hard to teach supervisors to move in this ACS direction – though you probably would have to get through their resistance that comes from them also being managed so poorly. It would be really good to be able to get my hands on their bosses, too.
Monday, September 25, 2006
PRETEND THEY’RE BEING NICE
I have (some of the time) recently been trying a new strategy that has been (some of the time) working for me when a customer is being rude, curt, abrupt, dismissive, impatient or some other form of obnoxious.
I just ignore this bad-customer behavior and pretend they are actually being nice. In a way, I am dismissing their impatience, etc. This (when it works) immediately chills out my own emotional reaction and makes the interaction way less stressful for me. Sometimes I will even tell myself, “This is not how they really want to be” or “This is not who they really are.”
And I am continually surprised at how often the customer then changes their behavior – not usually on the spot, but after they have gone off to pump their gas, get their driver’s license (to go with a check), etc. They amazingly come back nice.
Is it because I did not match their emotionally worked-up tone, which then gave that upset vibe no place to go, nothing to feed off of? Or when I look past their defensive or aggressive behavior to the real human being beneath that, does this somehow get through to them and allow that better person (who I believe is more truly who they are) to emerge?
And, if they don’t change, but continue to be obnoxious, I know that our interaction is going to take at most a minute or two – then they will be gone and out of my hair. I would way rather let their stuff just roll off my back, so I can get on to the next person, who is likely to be genuinely nice – rather than carry this toxic energy with me after this toxic person has left.
I just ignore this bad-customer behavior and pretend they are actually being nice. In a way, I am dismissing their impatience, etc. This (when it works) immediately chills out my own emotional reaction and makes the interaction way less stressful for me. Sometimes I will even tell myself, “This is not how they really want to be” or “This is not who they really are.”
And I am continually surprised at how often the customer then changes their behavior – not usually on the spot, but after they have gone off to pump their gas, get their driver’s license (to go with a check), etc. They amazingly come back nice.
Is it because I did not match their emotionally worked-up tone, which then gave that upset vibe no place to go, nothing to feed off of? Or when I look past their defensive or aggressive behavior to the real human being beneath that, does this somehow get through to them and allow that better person (who I believe is more truly who they are) to emerge?
And, if they don’t change, but continue to be obnoxious, I know that our interaction is going to take at most a minute or two – then they will be gone and out of my hair. I would way rather let their stuff just roll off my back, so I can get on to the next person, who is likely to be genuinely nice – rather than carry this toxic energy with me after this toxic person has left.
TEACHING THEM TO BE HUMAN - Joey, a conversion
Sometimes, authentic cashiering involves teaching customers to have social graces – actually, to be more human themselves.
If they try to hand their money in over someone else’s shoulder, I politely ask them to wait their turn. If they slap down their money and walk off with no verbal exchange, I count it quick and yell the amount after them, just to make sure we are on the same page.
Joey is one of our regulars. He comes in once or twice a day for cigarettes or for gas for one of his two vehicles, car and truck. He seemed for a long time to be seriously lacking in social graces. He would mostly not make eye contact and would be very curt, saying just the necessary words to complete his transaction. After getting his change, he would turn on his heels and walk away, as if dismissing you now that he longer needed you.
Realizing that Joey would be coming to my window once or twice a day, I took him on as a special project. I would give him a little extra friendliness when he appeared and a particularly warm “Have a nice day” as he left, even though he showed no signs that I still existed for him.
The first break in Joey's iceberg imitation came when he noticed me one day riding my bike off from the gas station and asked me the next morning if I rode it to work every day. I warmed to this exchange and told him I rode it every day that it wasn’t raining and that otherwise I would walk from downtown, where I lived, and that it was pretty ironic my working at a gas station when I have no car. From that day, Joey started calling me “Bicycle Man”, which struck me as his way of getting more personal – even though he still ended the transaction as abruptly as before. But I used this as a chance to get his name and used it consistently, in a particularly friendly way.
Then Joey started telling me, on some mornings, that he was “going to the country” – that he had a place out there. A ways later I got up my courage to ask him more about this place. He told me it had come down from his grandfather.
At about the same time as mentioning going to the country, Joey would sometimes say that he was going fishing and other times would brag about how many he had caught the day before. I was all over this opening, asking him – on separate days – how often he went, where, what kind of fish he caught, etc. This gave me a great hook (ha-ha) to getting more personal. One day he took me out to his truck and proudly pulled from a cooler a stringer full of fish. (Not being a fisherman, I have actually forgotten what kind.) This moment seemed particularly engaged – I knew we were making progress.
But Joey still continued to end our interactions at the window in the same impersonal way, which kept me (and my boss, back at his little manager’s desk) kind of shaking our heads. “What’s with this guy? Didn’t his mother teach him anything about how to treat people?”
Then two things shifted, simultaneously and pretty much out of the blue. I wear a name tag and many of our customers – regulars and those I am serving for the first time – seem to like calling me by my name. With no warning, Joey some of the time started dropping “Bicycle Man” and calling me John. Seemingly at the same juncture, he started – at least some of the time – also saying “Have a nice day” as he walked off. I almost did a little victory dance around the booth – maybe would have, if there was room.
And Joey just keeps getting looser and looser, more and more human. He brought me some tomatoes from his garden. One day he ended our conversation by saying, “I’ll be taking leave of you, John.” Then another day, the same line, only substituting “Old buddy” for John! Another day he greeted me by saying, “How’s my buddy today?”!! Still another day, he called me “Johnnie”. I am repeatedly knocked out by his new – and growing – warmth.
Over a period of several months, we have taken one cold-fish, pain-in-the-butt customer and either taught him or melted him into being basically a nice guy and good customer. I can’t help but wonder if this new friendliness might eventually start popping up from him in other business or even personal interactions. Maybe, maybe not. Joey seems to be generalizing this newly human way of operating with the guy who regularly works the evening shift, but not to our boss who just fills in at the window when we are on break, using the bathroom, etc.
This feels not only like a win, but a genuinely poignant little glimpse into a customer’s human heart.
If they try to hand their money in over someone else’s shoulder, I politely ask them to wait their turn. If they slap down their money and walk off with no verbal exchange, I count it quick and yell the amount after them, just to make sure we are on the same page.
Joey is one of our regulars. He comes in once or twice a day for cigarettes or for gas for one of his two vehicles, car and truck. He seemed for a long time to be seriously lacking in social graces. He would mostly not make eye contact and would be very curt, saying just the necessary words to complete his transaction. After getting his change, he would turn on his heels and walk away, as if dismissing you now that he longer needed you.
Realizing that Joey would be coming to my window once or twice a day, I took him on as a special project. I would give him a little extra friendliness when he appeared and a particularly warm “Have a nice day” as he left, even though he showed no signs that I still existed for him.
The first break in Joey's iceberg imitation came when he noticed me one day riding my bike off from the gas station and asked me the next morning if I rode it to work every day. I warmed to this exchange and told him I rode it every day that it wasn’t raining and that otherwise I would walk from downtown, where I lived, and that it was pretty ironic my working at a gas station when I have no car. From that day, Joey started calling me “Bicycle Man”, which struck me as his way of getting more personal – even though he still ended the transaction as abruptly as before. But I used this as a chance to get his name and used it consistently, in a particularly friendly way.
Then Joey started telling me, on some mornings, that he was “going to the country” – that he had a place out there. A ways later I got up my courage to ask him more about this place. He told me it had come down from his grandfather.
At about the same time as mentioning going to the country, Joey would sometimes say that he was going fishing and other times would brag about how many he had caught the day before. I was all over this opening, asking him – on separate days – how often he went, where, what kind of fish he caught, etc. This gave me a great hook (ha-ha) to getting more personal. One day he took me out to his truck and proudly pulled from a cooler a stringer full of fish. (Not being a fisherman, I have actually forgotten what kind.) This moment seemed particularly engaged – I knew we were making progress.
But Joey still continued to end our interactions at the window in the same impersonal way, which kept me (and my boss, back at his little manager’s desk) kind of shaking our heads. “What’s with this guy? Didn’t his mother teach him anything about how to treat people?”
Then two things shifted, simultaneously and pretty much out of the blue. I wear a name tag and many of our customers – regulars and those I am serving for the first time – seem to like calling me by my name. With no warning, Joey some of the time started dropping “Bicycle Man” and calling me John. Seemingly at the same juncture, he started – at least some of the time – also saying “Have a nice day” as he walked off. I almost did a little victory dance around the booth – maybe would have, if there was room.
And Joey just keeps getting looser and looser, more and more human. He brought me some tomatoes from his garden. One day he ended our conversation by saying, “I’ll be taking leave of you, John.” Then another day, the same line, only substituting “Old buddy” for John! Another day he greeted me by saying, “How’s my buddy today?”!! Still another day, he called me “Johnnie”. I am repeatedly knocked out by his new – and growing – warmth.
Over a period of several months, we have taken one cold-fish, pain-in-the-butt customer and either taught him or melted him into being basically a nice guy and good customer. I can’t help but wonder if this new friendliness might eventually start popping up from him in other business or even personal interactions. Maybe, maybe not. Joey seems to be generalizing this newly human way of operating with the guy who regularly works the evening shift, but not to our boss who just fills in at the window when we are on break, using the bathroom, etc.
This feels not only like a win, but a genuinely poignant little glimpse into a customer’s human heart.
HOW TO KEEP IT SPECIAL
This morning a girl came to the window whom I recognized as having last time she was in said to me, “You’re always so nice to me.” The predicament I faced this morning was how to match that level of special. Maybe I could have asked her name, but that would have seemed intrusive, as she was making only minimal eye contact. I’m speculating that she was feeling shy – and thinking I might not remember her. I had asked her how she was doing, and that prompted only a minimal exchange. Sometimes I hit people with a “Your morning going ok?” after the initial “How you doin’?” and this seems to sometimes prompt more exchange. Maybe at this second pass they more believe that I am really interested. With her, though, I settled for trying to put even a little more juice into the mundane aspects of the transaction.
Then, maybe five minutes later, Roy (his name on his work badge) appeared at the window – another person who has in the past made a point of how much he appreciates my friendliness. He initiated this morning by using my name, as he has been doing recently – and that set it up for me to use his name, which was enough specialness for this transaction.
Here’s the ticket with that girl: Next time I’ll make it clear that I remember her: “Hey, you’re the girl who said those nice things to me. What’s your name? Call me John.” I like that – that feels right as a next move in at least kind of keeping it special with her.
Then, maybe five minutes later, Roy (his name on his work badge) appeared at the window – another person who has in the past made a point of how much he appreciates my friendliness. He initiated this morning by using my name, as he has been doing recently – and that set it up for me to use his name, which was enough specialness for this transaction.
Here’s the ticket with that girl: Next time I’ll make it clear that I remember her: “Hey, you’re the girl who said those nice things to me. What’s your name? Call me John.” I like that – that feels right as a next move in at least kind of keeping it special with her.
Restaurant server dancing
(I actually wrote this over a year ago - it's been a while since my one and only restaurant serving job. But I still find it pretty interesting.)
Clint, the manager at the Early Girl, was describing yesterday those moments when tempers are flaring in the kitchen – among those kitchen workers who are not temperamentally cool to begin with, working in the heat, etc. – and your job as server is to make that absolutely seamless when you hit the restaurant floor, to be warm and charming and peaceful, betraying no clue of the stress behind the scene…and to be really peaceful dealing with the stressed-out guys in the kitchen, to be the oil on troubled waters, to not let your temper enflame things. He described it consciously as a kind of Zen process and remembered fondly those moments when he had managed to go into a kind of “zone” doing it – to dance it. But more it just drove him out of doing that work, he felt it wasn’t worth it for him, wasn’t truly his work, and he was glad to move out of the line of fire into restaurant managing – his current work.
Clint said another funny thing. He clearly enjoyed taking the 10-15 minutes talking to me, just standing at the front counter of the restaurant at this 2 p.m. time, with few people entering. “It’s really different talking to someone who wants to go into this work – mostly people get stuck in it.” I’m sure it is different that I am – here and now – so excited about entering this work, so much seeing the spiritual possibilities in it, but I’m sure it’s not unprecedented. I’m sure other servers have thought, do think about all this.
Later, I thought more about the whole dance image. I want serving to be an inspiration to me to keep my body strong, supple, responsive, dancing. I want to use Tai Chi and various forms of dance and yoga to facilitate the emergence of those “zone”, danced moments on the restaurant floor. I want to keep a vision of being both very grounded and solid, but also very light on my feet. Why can this not be the spiritual practice I have really been looking for – a movement meditation that has some pressures built in to keep my attention (like downhill skiing), a Tai Chi with more skin in the game.
Clint, the manager at the Early Girl, was describing yesterday those moments when tempers are flaring in the kitchen – among those kitchen workers who are not temperamentally cool to begin with, working in the heat, etc. – and your job as server is to make that absolutely seamless when you hit the restaurant floor, to be warm and charming and peaceful, betraying no clue of the stress behind the scene…and to be really peaceful dealing with the stressed-out guys in the kitchen, to be the oil on troubled waters, to not let your temper enflame things. He described it consciously as a kind of Zen process and remembered fondly those moments when he had managed to go into a kind of “zone” doing it – to dance it. But more it just drove him out of doing that work, he felt it wasn’t worth it for him, wasn’t truly his work, and he was glad to move out of the line of fire into restaurant managing – his current work.
Clint said another funny thing. He clearly enjoyed taking the 10-15 minutes talking to me, just standing at the front counter of the restaurant at this 2 p.m. time, with few people entering. “It’s really different talking to someone who wants to go into this work – mostly people get stuck in it.” I’m sure it is different that I am – here and now – so excited about entering this work, so much seeing the spiritual possibilities in it, but I’m sure it’s not unprecedented. I’m sure other servers have thought, do think about all this.
Later, I thought more about the whole dance image. I want serving to be an inspiration to me to keep my body strong, supple, responsive, dancing. I want to use Tai Chi and various forms of dance and yoga to facilitate the emergence of those “zone”, danced moments on the restaurant floor. I want to keep a vision of being both very grounded and solid, but also very light on my feet. Why can this not be the spiritual practice I have really been looking for – a movement meditation that has some pressures built in to keep my attention (like downhill skiing), a Tai Chi with more skin in the game.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
“Matter-of-Fact” Customer Service
Another way of being authentic that I get to practice at the gas station, besides “Creative Crankiness” and “Keeping It Human”, which I describe at my “Authentic Customer Service” website (www.earhtlink.home.net/~authenticcustomerservice/) and elsewhere in this blog, is “matter-of-fact”. (My word spellchecker may suggest that there are no hyphens necessary in this expression, but I’m going to use them, just to indicate the integration of these words – they are, for me here, like one adjective.)
When I am being matter-of-fact, I am not attempting to inject any “extra juice” in the transaction, not trying to “really show up”, etc. In these regards, this matter-of-fact way of operating may sound like the opposite of “Keeping It Human”, but I think it actually is not. I think it more inhabits a place somewhere between “Keeping It Human” and “Creative Crankiness”.
One way of thinking about those two other styles is that, first, KIH is a lot about the customer. Yes, as in all of the writings on the ACS web site and here in the blog, there definitely is a determination to keep your own authenticity as you serve the customer. But still KIH has a lot of focus on impact on the customer. Contrary to this focus on impact on the customer, “Creative Crankiness” is more about you as the server, finding ways to express out there what is your internal state – irritation. This form of serving also involves extra juice, but here the extra juice is not so much about reaching the customer as about expressing your own self.
Matter-of-fact (Let’s call it MoF for simplicity) operating is not about expressing extra juice at all – perhaps it could be equally called “juiceless” communication. It has no feeling tone. It is pure description or a totally simple answer, stripped to its bare bones. Some examples at the gas station would be:
Customer: “Twenty dollars on Pump 3.”
Me: “Thanks.”
“Pump 5”
“The red car (Subaru, etc.)”
Pumps 6 and 1 often confuse people re. the correct number. When they look over from the booth, they see the number 5, which is the number for the inside pump. On the other side of this pump, though, the far outside pump is #6. So, when someone says pump 5, I will routinely describe their car – and maybe add “on the inside” to make sure they really mean 5, not 6. Similarly at 1 and 2. But that little bit of extra interaction can still be very matter of fact, devoid of any feeling tone. Lots of my responses to customers fit this format. Likewise the next one.
“Pump 4”
“Twenty dollars.”
When someone simply gives me their money or puts it on the counter and turns to go back to their car, I will routinely announce how much they gave me – just to make sure we are in agreement on what they put down. This is adding a little extra to the transaction, but the motivation is very matter-of-fact – just to keep things straight. It could have a little edge of CC, irritation, because I do think it’s kind of goofy on their part to not make sure we are in agreement about how much money you they just gave me – but I prefer to not get emotionally engaged and just keep my response MoF.
“Twenty dollars at Pump 2”
“I’m not ready yet”
Because I still am completing the last transaction. Some people either wait because they can see that I’m not ready yet, without any intervention from me, or they begin to say the above, then notice that I’m not ready and retract what they had said. They may even apologize. The apology makes sense to me, because I do think it’s kind of rude to start in with me when it is obvious that I’m not ready. But my preference, again, is to not get emotionally hooked here, to just keep my responses MoF.
I sometimes alternate “I’m not ready yet” with “Hold on” or “Give me a moment”. These inherently have a little more energy, because they are making a request (telling them what to do?), rather than purely descriptive, but I do like to keep them as MoF as possible.
“I can’t get the pump to start.”
“Push the white start bar.”
I do sometimes alternate this totally stripped-down response with “Have you pushed the white start bar?”, which, even if spoken in a very flat way, is slightly less MoF, for inviting a response.
“Is there 7 cents off on Premium today?”
“Yes.
I might or might not then add, “Every Tuesday”, but there is a moment when “Yes” stands by itself.
“Don’t you give 3 cents off for paying cash any more?”
“No.”
(I love it when Anne Lamott, one of my favorite writers, says she lives by the truth that “No” is a complete sentence. I may go on to explain that now they can get 3 cents off by using the Enmark cash card, but there is a moment there when “No” just stands by itself.)
Functioning in this kind of matter-of-fact way may seem on the surface of it to be extremely simple. But for me it actually is not. I am a relationship junkie. After all, I worked for many years as a counselor, where the relationship is the vehicle for the work. I then worked for many years as a management consultant. This consulting work is less about the relationship (except for “coaching”, which comes closer), but the communication here tends to have a strong instructive edge. Even questions, here, tend to serve the purpose of going somewhere – they have a purpose, which is less MoF.
But, even more important in my life than these kinds of work I've done is that I was raised to be a helper. This mode of relating was drilled in to me (or manipulated into me) so deep that it is hard to come from any other place in a relationship – or even a passing encounter.
One particularly tricky way of relating, which is related to being a helper, is to be “nice”. A long time ago, I came to dislike and to begin rooting out “niceness” from my interpersonal style. While others might call me nice and mean it as a compliment, I came to not receive it as a compliment. I got clear that I did not want to be “nice”, but real, human – or authentic. (More on this in the “Creative Crankiness” article on the ACS website.)
If being real comes out in warm way, that's fine – and probably way more positive than some effort to be “nice”. And, since I think it is natural for human beings to have a positive response to other humans, then warmth or engagement will naturally characterize lots of our interactions.
(I love the scene in the movie “Harold and Maude”, when Harold, the neurotic teenager, asks Maude, the life-affirming older woman, how she manages to be so good with people. Maude replies, “Well, they are my species.”)
So, the many variations of “Keeping It Human” come fairly natural to me, even if some of the more subtle or sophisticated of these interactions represent lots of personal development or learning over many years. Creative crankiness has been much more of a learning edge for this originally overly nice guy. But these are still pretty charged interactions. Maybe they are especially charged because they contain some extra effort to resist the pull of niceness.
But matter-of-fact is matter of fact. It does not lean toward KIH or CC. It is pure information. It has no particularly human quality. A computer could do it about the same way.
Now a friend of mine took issue with me about the above point. He said, “I bet that even when you are being matter-of-fact, you are still more engaging than most cashiers these people run into.” This may be true – there may be some KIH quality from me even in interactions that I regard as purely MoF. That’s ok with me – I still regard these interactions as MoF because they involve no effort from me.
(And lots of my interactions do move a couple of degrees off of pure MoF, by including a little lilt in my voice or a genuine smile, without any extra engaging words. This kind of response truly involves very little effort from me, but is not included in what I here call truly matter-of-fact.)
Being MoF, for me, can paradoxically involve some extra effort - just to keep in this zone, when I am so programmed to give just a little extra when I am interacting with another human. But, for me, being matter-of-fact, even when it takes a little extra effort, can be especially liberating. It may connote – if only for me – that I am just fine, equally valuable, even when I am not being nice, or a helper, a teacher or coach, or anything like that. So it can be particularly freeing for me, even when it is a learning edge and so involves, paradoxically, a little extra effort.
But the real payoff is when that little extra effort to be MoF has already succeeded and now MoF just rolls off of me as natural as can be. Lots of factors can make this MoF way of operating especially appropriate or useful or simply natural:
- There may be a line or that moment may – line or no line – be especially busy, with one person after another coming to the window with no break, so I just don’t have the energy to give any extra juice to all these interactions.
- It may be later in the shift, when my energy has naturally dropped.
- Or the customer may be operating in an especially irritating or foolish way, and I choose to save the energy that would be involved in getting creatively cranky. When I go to purely matter-of-fact in these kinds of situations, the customer may accuse me of not being nice – or even rude or even “hateful”. (I saw someone call the boss this the other day, when I thought he was pure MoF. I think this one may be a particularly Southern and even more specifically “country” expression.) Them jumping to the conclusion that I am being rude often comes, I think, from defensiveness on their part – they know they are being a pain in the butt.
I think this particular developmental edge – becoming naturally matter-of-fact - may, in fact, be one of the main things that keeps making this job worthwhile for me. I may have already gotten most of the value I can out of the creatively cranky or even keeping it human dimensions of this work. But matter-of-fact interacting is still more of an edge for me. I may be destined to stay in this job just a little bit longer, until matter-of-fact interactions – which could be described as juiceless, but are in their own way creative - come as naturally to me as the more engaged "creatively cranky" or "keeping it human" styles.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Helping the customer save face
When I’m in this contracted state, I lose my natural graciousness. This black teenaged guy (whom I probably should have carded) had already been embarrassed by not having enough for his Phillie Blunt cigar. Then I aggravated his embarrassment my not letting him take the 8 cents out of the penny jar.
I think that, in addition to my own state, I was hewing to the company line with my boss behind me. He has already said that he doesn’t leave the penny tray out for this exact reason.
I was glad that I talked the thing out with my boss, because he then came from his empathic human place, rather than his irascible customer-bashing side. He said that he usually has that kind of change in his pocket and would hook the kid up – very cool.
I could/should have at least softened it for that teen-aged customer by saying the price had just gone up (he did have the old price). But I was too tight to flex like that – I was all business. What a blessing he came back with the money! I was able then to be lots more warm to him, glad he got his Blunt and telling him that I felt bad about sending him away without it.
I think that, in addition to my own state, I was hewing to the company line with my boss behind me. He has already said that he doesn’t leave the penny tray out for this exact reason.
I was glad that I talked the thing out with my boss, because he then came from his empathic human place, rather than his irascible customer-bashing side. He said that he usually has that kind of change in his pocket and would hook the kid up – very cool.
I could/should have at least softened it for that teen-aged customer by saying the price had just gone up (he did have the old price). But I was too tight to flex like that – I was all business. What a blessing he came back with the money! I was able then to be lots more warm to him, glad he got his Blunt and telling him that I felt bad about sending him away without it.
Don't keep them stuck in crabbiness
I'm learning to not load up by aggravation at someone just because they start out crabby, regarding having to pre-pay, etc. Often they reconsider or somehow otherwise get their act together before they come back to the window.
Who's stupid?
Whenever possible, I like to give my customers some props – treat them as if they were smart, cute, clever, funny, etc. But what about when I need to just patiently keep pointing out their operator errors, e.g. “It’s all set to pump, Ma’am – try pushing the start button again.” Sometimes we can’t protect them from feeling stupid. And, their sense of being called out for their stupidity does often correspond with them starting out to blame us. They have a bias towards someone being at fault - it's got to be either us or them. This gets in the way of us just collaboratively trying to fix the problem.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Distracted by my writing
Writing (or outlining chapters) while working the window at the gas station does distract me - it takes my attention elsewhere. It means I pay less attention to customers and am more likely to make errors at the cash register. But I am not going to turn down the muse when she offers me something.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
"My customers"...
More and more, the people I deal with here are not just the gas station's customers, they are my customers - “my people”. Some of the shoddy ways that the old manager handled customer service are just not ok with me:
1) If we advertise free air, then we offer a tire pressure gauge - duh, we are a gas station. His lame excuse that the last one "walked away" just doesn't cut it for me. None of them has "walked away" on me in the couple of months I have been supplying my own. And, if one does occasionally do so, it's just the price of doing business - they are cheap, after all.
2) We sell a ton of cigarettes. I think it's just Customer Service 101 that we stock matches. When the old manager came to know that I was stocking them, he said "It's your money." Let's see - 50 books of matches for 80 cents, I give out an average of one book per shift.... Now the new manager says that it is company policy to not stock matches, in order to sell more lighters - and was uncharacteristically hard-nosed about it. I think he does not want to run afoul of his boss, who is around often enough to hear me offering matches. So I don't offer matches when either of them is around. I have noticed, though, that lots of people, offered the 54-cent Enmark lighter, snap it up. So I think I'll offer the lighter first. If they don't have the 54 cents or say, "Nah, I've got lighters at home" or for whatever reason don't want to buy it, I'll give them a pack of matches. (I have actually been doing this for a while now and like this progression. Sometimes I tell people that I'm supposed to push the lighters. They get it - and really appreciate the extra bit of customer service in giving them the matches.)
1) If we advertise free air, then we offer a tire pressure gauge - duh, we are a gas station. His lame excuse that the last one "walked away" just doesn't cut it for me. None of them has "walked away" on me in the couple of months I have been supplying my own. And, if one does occasionally do so, it's just the price of doing business - they are cheap, after all.
2) We sell a ton of cigarettes. I think it's just Customer Service 101 that we stock matches. When the old manager came to know that I was stocking them, he said "It's your money." Let's see - 50 books of matches for 80 cents, I give out an average of one book per shift.... Now the new manager says that it is company policy to not stock matches, in order to sell more lighters - and was uncharacteristically hard-nosed about it. I think he does not want to run afoul of his boss, who is around often enough to hear me offering matches. So I don't offer matches when either of them is around. I have noticed, though, that lots of people, offered the 54-cent Enmark lighter, snap it up. So I think I'll offer the lighter first. If they don't have the 54 cents or say, "Nah, I've got lighters at home" or for whatever reason don't want to buy it, I'll give them a pack of matches. (I have actually been doing this for a while now and like this progression. Sometimes I tell people that I'm supposed to push the lighters. They get it - and really appreciate the extra bit of customer service in giving them the matches.)
Standing my ground...
Sometimes at the gas station I don’t stand my ground enough.
Today a very impatient, hostile woman leaned in past the two people in line, threw her check on the counter and walked away. I did holler after her that I needed to see her driver’s license (which I’m sure pissed off her impatient ass). A minute later, also while I was waiting on someone else, she returned and threw her license through the window.
I did allow myself to deal with the people at the window before sliding her check through our little electronic check reader to get it authorized (the last step before turning on the pump). While I was doing this, she again appeared at the window, glaring at me. I said that I was at that moment authorizing her check. She, still without a word, stomped back to her car.
I had been fairly assertive by finishing with the people at the window before attending to her check. But I realized from the hollow feeling inside, that I had not stood my ground enough. This woman had been rude and dismissive. I really had, for my own self-respect, to assert what is the boss’s position in these cases. “I don’t take people out of order. You need to come through the line and wait your turn like everybody else.” He backs this up by setting aside the money or check that has been shoved at him and doing nothing with it until the person returns and waits in line. This, inevitably, pisses them off, but it is more respectful of me and the other people waiting in line. And hey, she started pissed off.
When I do stand my ground in this way, I can handle this kind of person’s anger, especially since I am then not surprised by it – I have actually chosen to follow a path that almost guarantees it. But I will not go away from the transaction feeling ill-used.
Similarly, I sometimes I don’t do enough to protect myself from people’s hostility.
Usually at the gas station I do a pretty good job of insulating myself from the stuff people aim at me. Today I had a woman at the window really hollering at me that I had ignored her and was being “very, very rude.”
Most days this would be no problem for me. I knew that I had in no way ignored her and certainly had not been rude. I have learned to not take people’s upset personal. Even if I have made a mistake, hey, out of 400+ transactions per shift, you’re going to make a mistake here and there.
Most people don’t get bent out of shape – they also know that I’m just human and usually can see for themselves how busy the gas station is. Some will even say things like, “I just don’t know how you can handle all this.” If an occasional person chooses instead to give me a hard time, I know that this is about them, not me.
But, with this woman, I didn’t protect myself that well. I had just come on, instantly had long lines at the window, and had not yet found my rhythm. I also was tired and, I guess, kind of vulnerable.
I also knew from this woman’s tone that she was loaded for bear and that nothing I said would appease her. She was going to walk away from the window feeling wronged, no matter what. So, as I very patiently explained to her that I had to take people in the order they came to the window and had not intended to be rude, I knew from past experience that I needed to just stay out of the way and let her have her drama.
But I didn’t. I could feel my discomfort as she ranted at me – I was, at least partly, letting this one in through my protective shield. When I am adequately protected, the nasty transaction is, for me, over when it ends – I let it go and move on.
But this time I didn’t – it stayed with me. The hatred in this woman’s face lingered for me. To be sure, this woman had been especially nasty. But I knew I was hooked as I ran the situation over in my head, vented about it to my boss (who had heard the whole exchange and totally supported me), as I pictured myself telling the woman that I thought she was actually the one being rude (not a great idea), etc.
One of the advantages of meeting anger with anger, or at least crankiness, is that it gives one a forward momentum that provides pretty good protection. But it is also, for many reasons, often not a good strategy. The challenge, then, becomes how to not counter-attack, to simply hold your ground and protect yourself from people’s hostility – to not be a sitting duck.
Today a very impatient, hostile woman leaned in past the two people in line, threw her check on the counter and walked away. I did holler after her that I needed to see her driver’s license (which I’m sure pissed off her impatient ass). A minute later, also while I was waiting on someone else, she returned and threw her license through the window.
I did allow myself to deal with the people at the window before sliding her check through our little electronic check reader to get it authorized (the last step before turning on the pump). While I was doing this, she again appeared at the window, glaring at me. I said that I was at that moment authorizing her check. She, still without a word, stomped back to her car.
I had been fairly assertive by finishing with the people at the window before attending to her check. But I realized from the hollow feeling inside, that I had not stood my ground enough. This woman had been rude and dismissive. I really had, for my own self-respect, to assert what is the boss’s position in these cases. “I don’t take people out of order. You need to come through the line and wait your turn like everybody else.” He backs this up by setting aside the money or check that has been shoved at him and doing nothing with it until the person returns and waits in line. This, inevitably, pisses them off, but it is more respectful of me and the other people waiting in line. And hey, she started pissed off.
When I do stand my ground in this way, I can handle this kind of person’s anger, especially since I am then not surprised by it – I have actually chosen to follow a path that almost guarantees it. But I will not go away from the transaction feeling ill-used.
Similarly, I sometimes I don’t do enough to protect myself from people’s hostility.
Usually at the gas station I do a pretty good job of insulating myself from the stuff people aim at me. Today I had a woman at the window really hollering at me that I had ignored her and was being “very, very rude.”
Most days this would be no problem for me. I knew that I had in no way ignored her and certainly had not been rude. I have learned to not take people’s upset personal. Even if I have made a mistake, hey, out of 400+ transactions per shift, you’re going to make a mistake here and there.
Most people don’t get bent out of shape – they also know that I’m just human and usually can see for themselves how busy the gas station is. Some will even say things like, “I just don’t know how you can handle all this.” If an occasional person chooses instead to give me a hard time, I know that this is about them, not me.
But, with this woman, I didn’t protect myself that well. I had just come on, instantly had long lines at the window, and had not yet found my rhythm. I also was tired and, I guess, kind of vulnerable.
I also knew from this woman’s tone that she was loaded for bear and that nothing I said would appease her. She was going to walk away from the window feeling wronged, no matter what. So, as I very patiently explained to her that I had to take people in the order they came to the window and had not intended to be rude, I knew from past experience that I needed to just stay out of the way and let her have her drama.
But I didn’t. I could feel my discomfort as she ranted at me – I was, at least partly, letting this one in through my protective shield. When I am adequately protected, the nasty transaction is, for me, over when it ends – I let it go and move on.
But this time I didn’t – it stayed with me. The hatred in this woman’s face lingered for me. To be sure, this woman had been especially nasty. But I knew I was hooked as I ran the situation over in my head, vented about it to my boss (who had heard the whole exchange and totally supported me), as I pictured myself telling the woman that I thought she was actually the one being rude (not a great idea), etc.
One of the advantages of meeting anger with anger, or at least crankiness, is that it gives one a forward momentum that provides pretty good protection. But it is also, for many reasons, often not a good strategy. The challenge, then, becomes how to not counter-attack, to simply hold your ground and protect yourself from people’s hostility – to not be a sitting duck.
Losing that spark...
I am definitely getting less fresh in this work. I still light up with my regulars – or attractive women – but otherwise I definitely am getting more automatic. When I am writing (like now), I am definitely still very alive, but not in their direction. Is this inevitable? Is this why people in these roles act so shut-down? But I do have a progressively broader spectrum of regulars to whom I do respond. It's a mixed bag.
What about when we don't connect?
At the gas station there are some guys (mostly, not all) coming back for their change whom I totally do not remember from their first pass, when they came up to pay. I just did not pay attention to them. I greet them as if they have presented for the first time, and sometimes this is obvious. It's a little awkward. But it's just part of the game - not the way I like it to be, but inevitable. I have to simply let it be.
What about the regulars with whom there is no spark – from them or me? We keep interacting in a more formal way, as if we do not know each other. This also seems natural and inevitable. My connections with my regulars are going to run the gamut from friendly to formal.
What about the regulars with whom there is no spark – from them or me? We keep interacting in a more formal way, as if we do not know each other. This also seems natural and inevitable. My connections with my regulars are going to run the gamut from friendly to formal.
Reviving my ACS sites
This blog has obviously layed fallow for quite a while. Now seems like a good time, though, to resuscitate it.
In the time since my last post here, I worked for several weeks as a Mountain Mobility van driver, then over the last two months as a cashier in a hotel gift shop and (simultaneously - two part-time jobs) as a cashier at a gas station. I have now left the hotel job to go full-time at the gas station. This job definitely has its pluses and minuses, but the positives are fairly striking, and have not yet run out of gas (so to speak).
I have written two fun articles on the gas station experience, which are both posted on my Authentic Customer Service home page - a much more structured approach to this same content area. It's a little hard to put a cap on either of these articles, because I just keep getting more data for them - really every day. Maybe I will let them sit for now and bring the new fun stuff to this blog.
That other site is www.home.earthlink.net/~authenticcustomerservice/
Obviously, what will most charge up this blog is to start getting comments from y'all. I'm revising my VistaPrint business cards that refer to these two sites, and intend to start handing them out again.
In the time since my last post here, I worked for several weeks as a Mountain Mobility van driver, then over the last two months as a cashier in a hotel gift shop and (simultaneously - two part-time jobs) as a cashier at a gas station. I have now left the hotel job to go full-time at the gas station. This job definitely has its pluses and minuses, but the positives are fairly striking, and have not yet run out of gas (so to speak).
I have written two fun articles on the gas station experience, which are both posted on my Authentic Customer Service home page - a much more structured approach to this same content area. It's a little hard to put a cap on either of these articles, because I just keep getting more data for them - really every day. Maybe I will let them sit for now and bring the new fun stuff to this blog.
That other site is www.home.earthlink.net/~authenticcustomerservice/
Obviously, what will most charge up this blog is to start getting comments from y'all. I'm revising my VistaPrint business cards that refer to these two sites, and intend to start handing them out again.
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